


Keep believing

by darkandstormyslash



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Gen, Loki being Loki, Mentions of Crossdressing, Prison Talk, References to Norse Religion & Lore, dubiously updated norse mythology, lots of swearing, mentions of anal sex, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: Low-Key squints at the sky and murmurs half under his breath “Last guy who fucked me was hung like a horse.”And then he laughs. Laughs like a rat trapped in a drain.~Just Shadow, Low-Key and Iceman hanging out in prison.





	Keep believing

There are things you don’t say in prison. Everyone knows that. The guards know it, the inmates know it, even Shadow knows it without being told. Low-Key knows it, and Shadow _knows_ he does because it’s only when he’s in a particularly mischievous mood that he says them.

Shadow’s in the practice yard, doing bicep curls with the dumb-bells. Low-Key is propped up against the wall smoking a small raggedy cigarette and listening to Iceman go off on some long-winded, rambling rant about someone, or something, that screwed him over and Low-Key squints at the sky and murmurs half under his breath “Last guy who fucked me was hung like a horse.”

And then he laughs. Laughs like a rat trapped in a drain.

“Really, man?” Iceman snaps, his train of thought sufficiently derailed.

There’s a chance, Shadow knows, for Low-Key to pretend it’s a joke. He curls up the iron in his fist, counting under his breath. If Low-Key pretends it’s a joke then the conversation can go back to where it was. If he doesn’t then the words sit between them, leaden and heavy, more brazen for having been said.

Shadow has no doubt in his mind that Low-Key has indeed fucked a dude, and that said dude was indeed generously endowed. He doesn’t want to look at Low-Key because if he does, he knows he’ll start thinking about it.

“Yeah.” Low-Key answers, repeating the words again just to show how much he knows he shouldn’t be saying them, “Hung like a horse.”

Iceman’s brow furrows suspiciously, “You don’t look like a fag.”

“I owed him money.” Low-Key laughs again, laughs so much he almost doubles over. Shadow grips the iron tighter because any minute now Iceman will decide Low-Key is laughing at him, and when Iceman loses his temper things go to shit very quickly.

But instead Iceman gives a snort, and Shadow feels his heart-rate slow down just slightly, “That’s fucking nasty, man.”

“This one time,” Low-Key sounds like he’s just warming up and Shadow gives up pretending to work out, resting the dumb-bell next to him on the bench and giving a sigh, “This dude stole my mate’s hummer. Just smashed in the window and drove off in it. So we followed the fucker to Vegas and my mate, I kid you not, puts on a dress and fucking marries the guy. In Vegas.” Low-Key’s laugh is infectious and even Iceman is grinning at this one. “He’s like six foot tall and built like a ton of bricks, but he gets in a white lacy dress and they go to a chapel, and get a fucking priest to sign it off and everything.”

“Did he know?” Iceman asks, because Low-Key does this. He pulls people into the circle around his world, drawing them in, fascinated and a little disgusted. “Did the guy know he married a man?”

“He knew the next morning when he woke up to find we’d spent all his money, trashed his room, and fucked off with the hummer.”

Shadow knows that not all of Low-Key’s stories can be true. They _can’t_ be. Yet somehow, he also knows he could believe them all.

“Is that true?” He asks later, when they’re back in their cell. “You really got a six-foot bodybuilder in drag to get married?”

“Not a word of a lie.” Low-Key grins at him from the bunk, “Do you want to know if the other one’s true as well?”

Shadow has been propositioned already since he’s been in prison. Some of the guys here are gay, some are desperate, it was nothing more than a hand on his thigh and it took nothing more than a look to get it withdrawn. He’s not entirely sure that’s what’s happening here. It feels more like a test, like a joke, like Low-Key will wait until Shadow’s balls-deep in him and then scoff at him for taking it seriously.

It’s all academic anyway. He knows he’ll never cheat on Laura. It’s part of the rock-hard certainty that’s keeping him sane in prison.

“I can believe you got fucked.” Shadow says, lowering himself down into his own bunk and wishing his cell-mate came with an off-switch.

“You believe I got fucked by a horse-dick?”

“Sure. Why not.”

There’s silence and Shadow wonders if the conversation is over. It seems very unlike Low-Key to finish a conversation without getting the last word in.

There’s a creak from the bed-springs as Low-Key turns over and then there it is, the final word on the subject, “You keep believing Shadow.”

At any other time, Shadow would be certain it was a masturbation joke. But the voice doesn’t sound like Low-Key’s usual voice, a grin and a smirk and a nasal southern twang. It sounds old, and empty, whispered through scarred lips and gapped teeth.

Shadow falls asleep and for the first time in a long while his sleep is dreamless.


End file.
